


Fractures

by NakiaSwg



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Plot, Angst with a Happy Ending, Broken, Fear, Good Peter Pettigrew, Hurt Remus Lupin, James Potter & Lily Evans Potter Live, James Potter Lives, James Potter Needs a Hug, Lily Evans Potter Lives, Nice Peter Pettigrew, Peter Pettigrew Didn't Betray James Potter and Lily Evans Potter, Remus Lupin Lives, Remus Lupin Needs a Hug, Sad Sirius Black, Sirius Black Lives, Sirius Black Needs a Hug, Sirius Black Never Went to Azkaban, Time Travel, fixed, fractured, hermione changes the future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:55:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25842433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NakiaSwg/pseuds/NakiaSwg
Summary: They were broken. Demons plagued them. She made a promise to fix them, even if it destroyed her in the process. And fix them she did. Plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone.
Kudos: 9





	Fractures

The first thing she noticed was the fractures - fractures of what used to be. On the outside, sure they were happy, fun loving and appeared to not have a care in the world. On the inside, their demons were eating away at them, destroying them.

Broken.

James, the boy in love, enjoys hexing Slytherins for the fun of it, because they're evil. He likes pranking people and confessing his love to one Lily Evans. He was arrogant, some might say cruel, but he was the mother hen, the one who made sure Remus didn't fade away while studying, that Peter was always included, that Sirius was loved. But he was scared. Scared of the war. His parents, Fleamont and Euphemia, two blood traitors who were high up in the ministry. Sure, they were pureblood, but that offered little protection from Him,not when you didn't support his cause. Every day, he read the Daily Prophet with fervour, assuring himself that his parents were ok, that they weren't dead. But he knew they weren't reporting all the deaths. And so, his demons plagued his mind, making him believe things he didn't want to.

"Your parents are dead," they whispered. Every night. He screamed. And cried. But he couldn't let anyone see, for then they would worry about him, and the mother hen would be no more.

Broken.

Sirius, the boy who rebelled, did anything to prove he wasn't like his family. Hexing, pranking, insulting, anything to differentiate himself from them. Laughing and having as much fun as possible, for he wasn't allowed to when he was there. Not home, no, it had never been home. The yelling and beatings proved that. A home is not a place, not a building, not a house. Home is the people who are there. Walburga was not his mom, just like Orion was not his dad. His brother, however, was a different story. He loved, no, loves Regulus, with all of his heart. He missed him. His younger brother, gone, swallowed by the darkness. The darkness that had been threatening to consume them both, since they were born into that family. So he left. Ran away, to James's house, to the only home he had ever known. To the people who loved him. James tried to convince him that it was all in his head, but that was what scared him. If it was all in his head, who was to say it couldn't take over? And so, his demons plagued his mind, making him believe the darkness would come to claim him, that he would never be good, that he would always have dark inside him.

"You will always be dark," they whispered. Every night. He screamed. And cried. But he couldn't let anyone see, for then they would worry about him, and the tough rebel would be no more.

Broken.

Peter, the boy who was teased, did anything and everything to prove he was one of them. Worshipped them, laughed with them, took jokes at his own expense. And still, he felt he didn't belong. He wasn't as smart as Remus, nor as cool as Sirius, or as effortlessly funny as James. But he was one of them all the same. They didn't think he was. Everywhere he went, Slytherins appeared, making fun of him, teasing him, telling him he would never fit in. His friends always told him the contrary, but he began to believe it was true. And so, his demons plagued his mind, telling him he would never fit in.

"You will never be good enough," they whispered. Every night. He screamed. And cried. But he couldn't let anyone see, for then they would worry about him, and the comforter and listener would be no more.

Broken.

Remus, the boy who love to study, believed he was a monster. Bitten by a werewolf when he was three, he believed he didn't deserve happiness, that when people found out what he was they would abandon him, when in fact, it was exactly the opposite. Still, he believed he only deserved pain, believed he didn't deserve his friends. Ever since he was three, people had been abandoning him for something that was beyond his control. An affliction that was beyond his control. His friends tried to convince him he was not a monster, but by the time they found out, it was too late. He had resigned himself to the fact a long time ago. And so, his demons plagued his mind, telling him he would never be accepted, that he was a monster.

"You will never deserve happiness," they whispered. Every night. He screamed. And cried. But he couldn't let anyone see, for then they would worry about him, and the untouchable genius would be no more.

Broken.

Hermione, the girl who loved to learn, travelled from a war, to a time she was never supposed to be in. She was supposed to die, along with her best friends. But life is never fair, and so it sent her back to a time she didn't belong in. She saw the people her best friend should have grown up with, and she felt guilty. Guilty that she was the one getting to spend time with all of these people. But she settled in, befriended them, tried to change their futures, prevent their deaths. Still, the guilt lingered. Then she began to notice things. Notice how Remus wouldn't let Madame Pomphrey heal him after a full moon, how Sirius had dark circles under his eyes all the time, how James read the Daily Prophet every day, how Peter was always ready to defend others and never himself. And so the demons made themselves known. And she made a promise. She would fix the Marauders, banish their demons, their screams, their cries, no matter how broken she was, no matter whether it destroyed her or not. She would heal them. Make sure that her timeline never came to pass.

But still, her demons plagued her, day and night, everywhere, she saw the Battle of Hogwarts playing over and over again. In the courtyard, she saw Ron being mauled by Greyback, in the hall, she saw Fred's body, Remus's body, Tonks's body. Her one safe place was the Astronomy Tower, the one place untainted by the war, and yet, her demons still managed to reach her.

"You are selfish," they whispered, "Enjoying the life Harry never got to live, knowing and speaking to and loving the people fate didn't allow him to."

And she screamed. She kept on screaming until she could scream no more. Then she cried. Great, huge sobs wracking her body. But still, she kept her promise. She fixed the Marauders, made sure they all knew they were loved, wanted. Even if they were never fully whole again, their demons stopped plaguing them. Their screams stopped; their sobbing receded. Peter never joined Voldemort, James and Lily never died, Sirius never went to Azkaban.

Then she disappeared, without a word. She went to kill Voldemort, to make sure none of the children were ever trapped by the war again. Never forced to fight in a war that wasn't theirs to fight. Never forced to make the choice between life and death. Never forced to kill. She reappeared two months later, to find the Marauders just as broken as when she had first met them. It was then that she finally told them the truth.

Broken.

_She ran through the castle, trying to find the one room she knew there would be no fighting in. She blasted through the death eaters, sprinting through the doors._

_"Hermione, you shouldn't be here."_

_"Why not? I have nothing left to live for, nobody left to love. They're all dead. Everyone."_

_"I'm still here."_

_"Why should I care for you? You're a death eater."_

_"No. Hermione I don't want to do this, but he said he would kill everyone I loved."_

_"Then you should have asked for help. I would have helped you."_

_"Would you?"_

_Just then, a death eater burst through the doors._

_"Why are you talking to this mudblood? Kill her!" came the deranged cackle of Alecto Carrow._

_The boy took a deep breath. "No."_

_"What did you say?"_

_"I said no. I won't kill her."_

_"On your head be it," Alecto shrugged, "Avada Kedavra!"_

_"I love yo-"_

_A flash of green and blue light, Draco's body dropped to the floor, eyes unseeing, and Hermione disappeared, falling from the ceiling of the Great Hall, twenty years in the past._

Broken.

Even though she fixed her boys, she could not fix herself - could not get over everything and everyone she had lost. Still, her demons plagued her, telling her that she had the life Harry had longed for. Every night. She screamed. And cried. But she couldn't let anyone see, for then they would worry about her, and the girl who saved would be no more.

Eventually, she had enough. She told Lily everything, and Lily said that it was because of Hermione that Harry could have a normal life, without war, loss and death. She knew she would never be whole again, that a part of her died along with Harry and Ron, but her demons ceased to plague her ever again, her screaming stopped, her sobs receded, and she was happy once again.

She had her boys, the Marauders, she had Lily, she had Harry, and that was all she needed.

A/N- okok I'm putting out a chapter of Proud To Be A Potter later, but this plot bunny would NOT LEAVE ME ALONE so I had to write it. I cried writing the first paragraph, I won't even lie, but enjoy! I love the Marauders, but you can't tell me they were this happy go lucky friendship group, because they weren't. Anyway, have fun with this!

**Disclaimer- Anything you recognise, I don't own.**


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